The Best Man

by xthesebonesx

The morning of her wedding, Bonnie and Damon find themselves reeling in the aftermath of a one-night stand between the best man and the bride. Will the two be able to continue to pretend it never happened or will their true feelings for one another force the truth to come out? AU/AH.

11. Chapter 11

Family Affair

A/N: Hey y'all! Please forgive me for the ridiculously long hiatus I went on. I had a number of changes with my job over the past few months because of COVID and I've been working so much that I just didn't have the chance to sit down and get my thoughts together, like I would have wanted to sooner. Thank you to everyone who reached out to see how I was doing. I appreciate you! And I hope you all appreciate the LONG chapter ahead. Things are about to get real is all I can say. Don't forget to review. I love to hear your thoughts. & as always, thanks for reading!

"I am going to miss you so much. You know that, right?"

Damon smiled at that as his arms remained wrapped around Sarah in a tight hug and his sister sighed against his black shirt before pulling away and finding his eyes as she continued.

"Please make sure that you call. And write. And text. And Skype," she added.

"People still Skype?"

"You will. For me, D."

"You're right. I will."

Her hazel eyes blinked back tears and he brushed a tentative thumb across her cheek as they both drunk in the silence between them.

This was it.

Sarah and Matt were headed back home on the next plane out of Florence and Damon had to admit he felt a certain melancholy rush over him that morning when he awoke from his drunken stupor to realize that his sister—his baby sister—was finally leaving after the last few weeks that they had spent here together. And honestly? He was depressed about it because it had, without a doubt, been the absolute time of his life.

He couldn't have predicted that he'd be so upset about it but here he was, devastated, as he eyed the chauffeur packing the luggage in the trunk with Stefan's help, while his father, Gail, and Bonnie exchanged their goodbyes to Matt, just a few feet away, and he occupied Sarah's time and attention right here. s

He didn't think he'd feel this stabbing, hollow, feeling in the pit of his stomach when he left a peacefully sleeping Bonnie in bed, and tiredly wandered into her suite this morning. He just wanted to see her before it was officially time to say goodbye. Somehow, Sarah talked him into not only folding her laundry but also splitting a bottle of champagne that she claimed they would make mimosas with.

They never got around to grabbing the orange juice before they housed the entire thing.

The two talked and laughed a lot which eventually woke Matt up, but he didn't mind. Instead he grabbed a glass and joined in, as they reminisced about their recent memories made—especially the ones from last night at the crowded Italian nightclub, which turned out to be their wildest and best time that they had, had here.

Who would have thought?

Between the music, drinks, and dancing, Damon had done a complete 180 on a night that he thought would be ruined the second his brother, Stefan, showed up at the restaurant, surprising them all for Sarah and Matt's big moment.

That turned out not to be the case. Because not only did they just not talk about what was brewing between them—which was a-okay with Damon—but Stefan had even somehow been fun for once, as he dropped the brooding act for a few hours, and made friends with some of the locals after telling them some bogus story about him being an American celebrity reality tv star; a lie that Sarah dared him to do, that they did not believe he'd actually go through with.

Not only did the locals believe him, but it resulted in Stefan taking pictures with his "fans" all night, and the rest of them, who he'd introduced as his supposed "entourage," being plied with drinks all night.

You didn't have to tell Damon twice to accept a couple free shots of Jameson.

And Stefan was, strangely enough, a good sport about it, embracing his new "celebrity" status. So much so, Damon even swore he saw his brother hit the dance floor a few times with an attractive blonde who eerily resembled Caroline, but he supposed that was better than him drunkenly flirting with anybody else who couldn't be mistaken for a dead ringer of his wife.

As for Damon, it was the usual—chug a few beers, take too many shots, and drag Bonnie onto the dance floor, to which he got her to loosen up a little bit from whatever mood she had been in the whole day.

And he almost wished he had stopped himself there.

He cringed this morning when Sarah showed him her Instagram story and he was singing Don't Stop Believing at the top of his lungs on the top of the bar—because he definitely forgot about that—and the video had been viewed nearly 2000 times by her followers and then some.

It was safe to say he had way too much fun last night.

Flash forward to now, as Damon snapped out of his thoughts and smoothed his palms over Sarah's jet-black hair before he ruffled it at the crown. She let out a screech and slapped his hand as he offered a toothy grin and hugged her again so crushingly hard, he was sure she was starved for oxygen.

He didn't care as he held on tighter and swayed her within his embrace.

"Im happy you're going to miss me. I'd miss me too. I'm really missable," he chirped. Sarah scoffed at that with her last breath and he finally released her once more, finding her eyes again. "Maybe you can come stay at the boarding house, sometime, when you're on break from school. If you and Donovan aren't already doing the white picket fence thing, by then."

"Only if you promise Bonnie will be there, too," she said, and he swallowed hard but didn't answer as she followed his stare. "You are going to ask her to move in, soon, aren't you?"

Damon ticked his jaw at that and looked past Sarah and his eyes landed on his girlfriend. Her wavy brown hair, earthy green eyes, and infectious smile stirring his bones from all the way over here as she laughed at something his dad said and he turned back towards Sarah and offered a shrug.

"I haven't thought about it yet."

That was a lie. He thought about it everyday, actually, as he constantly tried to think of the right time to bring it up; to kindly suggest that when they get back to Mystic Falls, she break her lease to the condo, pack her things, and come to live with him in his big ass mansion that was ridiculously huge and super lonely every passing second that he didn't have her there.

It was only right. How could she expect him to adjust back to the norm of life without her after they'd spent the few weeks in co-habitation, spending nearly every moment together, as if they already were ready to take the next step?

To Damon, this was already figured out.

But that didn't mean Bonnie knew that yet. And each time he wanted to ask her, he just chickened out; second guessing and convincing himself that she'd say no—that she would say it was too soon. Because living together was a huge step. He would know—he and Elena tried it several times, and it ultimately drove them apart, as they were trying to navigate and get used to one another's habits when tasked to deal with them 24/7.

It was when he first started to realize that he couldn't fucking stand her. Because he harped on the little things—like hating how she organized the pantry. And she hated how he loaded the dishwasher.

Living with Elena briefly clued him into just how annoying it could be to have someone in your space all the time, but he somehow imagined that it would be different with Bonnie. After all, when they weren't here on vacation, they spent most nights together at his place or hers anyway and things had been just fine. So why shouldn't they give this an honest shot once they got back?

It was ridiculously soon to be thinking about sharing utilities, making a budget, and renovating his place to make it her own too, if that was what she wanted, but he just couldn't stop himself because it was what he wanted.

He couldn't stop himself from fantasizing what it would be like to make it official. He couldn't stop dreaming about what it would be like if she did say yes.

And of course, Bonnie moving in with him made him think about the other M-word; the one he had no business uttering, considering just how quickly they'd fallen into all of this and she just got out of her engagement with Enzo, but he knew what he wanted—whether it happened tomorrow or happened ten years from now.

He wanted to be with her, forever. And watching Matt propose to his sister last night did little to quell his sudden marriage fever.

If anything, he only wanted it more. Even though he couldn't admit that yet without looking like a fucking psycho. He just hoped he'd be able to control himself when it came to all of this.

"We're taking it one day at a time. When it happens, it'll happen," he said carefully, and Sarah's eyes widened but her lips curled into a smile at that—especially when she watched his cheeks flush and he blinked a few too many times. "Why are you looking at me like that?"

"Because I know you. And I know the whole playing it cool thing, when you are actually bursting at the seams is driving you insane. And that's okay. Because she's worth it. She's worth the wait, D. I promise… So, give her time. Okay?"

Damon smiled at that and she smirked in response but didn't say anything else about it as Bonnie walked over with a frown and her arms outstretched towards her for a hug that Sarah happily reciprocated when she met her embrace.

"Are you sure you can't just defer this semester so we can travel the world for another six months?" Bonnie asked jokingly. "You're like the sister I never had; that I always wanted. I will miss you so much."

Damon watched on as his girlfriend hugged his sister tightly. Sarah chuckled warmly as both girls fanned away their tears before hugging again while they talked, and he slid both hands into his own pockets as he quietly watched on.

The next few minutes were a blur.

And then just like that, Sarah and Matt were gone, as they bid everyone their final farewells and the black town car peeled out of the driveway in moments flat. Damon felt gentle content spread within his bones as he watched them leave; his hand in Bonnie's, as her thumb rubbed his knuckles and gently and she kissed his cheek before she ushered him inside and back up the stairs to their suite, while his father, Gail, and Stefan remained in the kitchen chatting lightly about everything and nothing at all.

Just because he didn't want to rip Stefan's head off currently didn't mean that they were best friends again. He was still shelving that conversation they would inevitably have to have until later.

Damon walked into their room and watched as Bonnie shut the door behind her. He stood motionless for a moment, just observing her as she slipped off her shoes and gathered her black waves into a bun with a sigh and turned to face him with an exasperated look on her face.

Truth be told, she was fucking exhausted. Not just because of the partying from last night, but the weight of carrying Giuseppe's secret. And with each passing second, she hoped his father was getting closer to coming clean and telling Damon the truth because she wasn't sure how much longer she could hold onto this.

The past 48 hours had been unbearable for her. She hoped Stefan's being here meant that his father was ready to have the conversation that both his sons deserved to hear from his mouth.

"So, what's the plan for today?" she asked with a soft tone, trying to push that out of her mind.

Damon didn't offer a verbal response to that as he met her eyes. The room was incredibly still and silent.

Without a word, he stepped in and immediately planted his hands to her face, along with his mouth to her own and kissed her; long and hard, fervently and hungrily, as Bonnie stood completely still, caught off guard by it for a second while his lips formed against hers, and his hands pressed tightly against her jaw.

She eventually melted into his embrace—and into the wall—when he pushed her up against it behind her. Her hands combed through his dark hair, snaking across the back of his neck, and she felt his palms drop from her cheeks onto her ribs. He slowly crept his hands up her shirt and touched her breasts that were enclosed in her bra. He didn't waste any time pulling her shirt off then attacking his own, before lifting her into his arms and walking her over to the king-sized bed. Bonnie landed on her back with a sigh and him on top of her; their lips still attached all the while.

She breathed deeply when he finally separated their mouths; his lips instantly meeting the nape of her and trailing deep kisses along her skin while his hand was inching lower and lower until he made it to the zipper of her shorts.

She felt him slide his digits along the front of her underwear and she moaned softly at the heat that involuntarily radiated from his fingers onto her skin as he touched her; threatening to dip his digits inside.

And that was when she stopped him, as her hands blocked his and she inhaled a deep breath. Damon ticked his jaw when he stopped abruptly. He exhaled as he looked down to find her eyes, but Bonnie wasn't looking straight at him, when he eased a palm to her cheek and stroked it softly with his thumb.

They remained in heavy silence for a moment as he just watched her. He finally dropped his palm and stood to his feet to find his shirt, as Bonnie sat up but looked down, trying to catch her breath.

"I'm sorry. I just…" she started and stopped because what was her excuse this time?

Sorry, I'm not in the mood, because this might be the last time, you're ever going to see your father alive again? Sorry that I know that, and you don't yet?

She didn't finish her sentence and Damon was already getting redressed as he pulled his arms through his shirt and she hugged her knees quietly, watching his rapid and silent movements.

Bonnie finally stood to her feet and approached him. Her hand stopped him as he was just about to walk out the room and she watched the searing pain that was behind his glare although he hadn't mentioned it yet. He didn't have to, she realized. Because her coldness the past 48 hours was doing this to him. And he wasn't used to it.

She owed him an explanation. But Giuseppe also was entitled to telling him his secret without her interference.

What the hell was she supposed to do?

"Damon— "she started, and he interrupted her almost immediately with a shaky bit rigid tone.

"Should I be worried?" he asked, and she looked up at that; his thick brows knitted as she met his piercing blue eyes; swallowing hard at the bluntness and the edge in his voice.

"Excuse me?"

"Should I be worried," he repeated, as he stepped in even closer, "about this, about us?" he asked and Bonnie shook her head at that as she licked her lips and folded her arms over her chest.

"No, Damon. You shouldn't be worried about us. I'm just… not myself lately. But it's not because of you… Why would you be worried?"

"Because like you said, you're not being yourself. And something is different, Bonnie. I feel it. It feels like something is wrong," he said, and she lifted a brow at that but didn't respond. "You're my girlfriend but you're also my best friend... I notice. I notice when things are off with you. And then I overthink. You know that. I am a chronic over-thinker. And because I overthink my mind immediately goes to this dark insecure place where I think you're having second thoughts about this. And about me— "

"I'm not having second thoughts, Damon," she stopped him, and his mouth pressed shut but she watched the relief filter into his eyes. "I'm not having second thoughts about this, or you," she said honestly and he listened on as it was her turn to place both hands to his jaw; her thumbs stroked his cheeks softly as she spoke. "I'm just… stressed out about things."

"Stressed? Bonnie, that was the point of this entire vacation. To de-stress."

"I know. And I have—trust me, you've done an amazing job making me forget about everything that's going on back home. But… I'm human, Damon. And I overthink, too. I… think about how I haven't spoken to my parents, since we left because they won't return my calls... I've been thinking about work, or lack thereof, and the fact that I still don't have a job when we go back home… And then there's… Elena," she said as he bit his lip but didn't respond. "I know what she said to you—and about me—was harsh. But I want to speak to her. I'd like to make things right. I have to. She's one of my best friends and I feel like an awful person, still, for hurting her. I don't know that she'll ever get over you and I getting together but I want her to know that I'm sorry… I still am really sorry… Even if she'll never forgive me."

Damon nodded at all of that and Bonnie swallowed hard. None of this was particularly a lie so it was okay to say it. What was happening to Giuseppe may have now been on the forefront of her mind, but so we're all of these other things. And they didn't just go away because she was spending her time in paradise with the love of her life, not dealing with her issues, face to face.

"So, what can I do? How can I help," he asked, and Bonnie sighed as his palms met her hands and stroked them softly? "There has to be something."

Bonnie was quiet at that for a second as she thought about it. Damon's eyes remained eager as her thumbs caressed his warm skin and sent his mind into a dizzying haze the longer, they just stared at one another.

He really belonged in The Louvre she thought internally, as her stare roamed over his perfect Grecian-like features.

"Being around your family helps. It… makes me feel like I haven't lost everything," she said, and he nodded at that as she pursed her lips for what she would say next. "So, I propose that instead of leaving for Rome tomorrow like you planned, I think we should just stay here… finish out the rest of our trip with your parents… and Stefan," she added and his brows furrowed at that before she continued on. "We can… come back when it's warm to do Rome. And we'll go South, and see the coast, like you wanted," she said, and Damon ticked his jaw at that shaking his head before he spoke.

"Stefan is one of the things we wanted to get away from, Bon— "

"But he's here. He came to us. So, why not just talk to him at this point and squash everything?" she asked, and he sighed as he dropped her hands. "Damon— "

"I'm fine not going to Rome, Bonnie. I'll do whatever it is that you want because that is how much power you have over me… I just want to make you happy… But talking to Stefan at this point—it's not what I want. I don't want to have a conversation with him about what he's said. What's done is done."

"Damon, he's your brother— "

"My emotionally manipulative brother. Let's not forget that part. You want me to give him another chance to do what he does best?" he asked, and she frowned. "There's absolutely nothing to say to him, Bonnie. Yeah, last night was fun—we had a good time. But that's how Stefan and I are. We know how to suck it up for Sarah's sake. We did that for her. Not for each other. And now that she's gone, I don't have any reason to talk to him again. Much less, waste my time listening to explanations— "

"I know it's hard—to forgive him. But what happened to keeping an open mind and heart when he came around? We talked about that, didn't we?"

"You're right; we did. And I promised you I would… I said I would give him a chance," Damon admitted as she hugged her arms over her chest, and he looked into her eyes. "But I'm breaking that promise, Bonnie. And you should understand why. You of all people should get why I'm better off without him because all he does is hurt me. Why should I forgive that?"

Because your father is dying, she wanted to say but stopped herself.

There was a long silence as Damon suddenly looked annoyed—agitated even—as he scratched his brown hair and took a step back towards the bathroom as Bonnie moved on to close the space between them.

He folded his arms over his chest when she appeared in front of him with her hands at her side as he watched her carefully.

"You're right. Stefan hasn't done right by you. And he has a lot to apologize for," she agreed as Damon didn't say a word, quietly listening on. "And you don't owe him anything. You owe him nothing at all," Bonnie conformed as his eyes never wavered. "But you owe it to yourself to give him a chance to make it up to you; to make things right… because life is short, Damon—really short. And I can't help but think about how much you would regret never making things right if he were gone, tomorrow, and you never got what you wanted to say off of your chest… If you never have him the chance to explain himself," she said and Damon looked down, without a response. "Hearing him out is something that you need to do for you—not for me. Your forgiveness is about you and showing how much you've changed. It shows that you've grown and moved on, Damon. Don't you want that? Don't you want to move on?"

Damon took in a deep breath at that before he offered a final shrug and Bonnie watched on as a somber looked roamed over his eyes before he headed towards the bathroom door.

"Maybe I'm just not that evolved, Bonnie. I don't want to forgive and forget."

And with that, he walked in and locked the bathroom door behind him.

XXXXX

"Do you happen to have any Advil? I've got a splitting headache all of a sudden."

"Do you? Should I admit you into the ER, Mr. St. John?"

Enzo rolled his eyes playfully at that as Elena smirked from the mirror—brushing her wet hair in her towel and he stood up from her bed in his boxers. He walked over to her silently and placed both hands on her shoulders. His eyes met hers in the mirror and he kissed her neck softly as she shut her eyes and her lips emitted a soft moan. When his mouth landed on her ear and spoke in a soft, silky tone, she all but tingled everywhere when she reopened her eyes and looked straight into his.

"I don't need to be admitted. I just need you to stop being so bloody rough with me," he whispered.

Elena bit her lip guiltily at that as she recalled getting a little bit aggressive when he showed up at her doorstep a few hours ago, with dinner and she pledged to find them a movie while he set things up in the living room, and uncorked a bottle of wine.

Netflix and Chill quickly evolved to make out session on the couch, third base in her hallway, and then sex in her bedroom, where she climbed on top of him and he all but let her do whatever she wanted to him. That included wrapping her hands around his throat and choking him a little bit. And she wasn't sure who liked it more—him or her.

Possibly her, since she wasn't the one who had the headache, now.

She looked into his eyes and offered a shrug.

"Maybe you should be less fragile. Advil is in the top drawer."

He grinned at that as he released her, and she pursed her lips as she shamelessly checked out his ass when he walked away before reaching for her powder and puffing it lightly against her cheeks.

She knew it was bad that she was still letting this happen—whatever this was with Enzo—a mere week after telling him they shouldn't do this anymore, because it was weird and she didn't even really like him all that much, though she had to admit, the more time she spent with him, that was starting to change.

She didn't like to admit that hearing that he broke things off with Sybil-What's-Her-Name actually made her happy, because then she'd have to confess to this not just being about sex, like she'd intended it to be the first few times she slept with him. She'd have to come to terms with the fact that she feeling a little bit invested in this—and him—despite how much she didn't want to be. And that was what still pinged at her conscious the longer she allowed this to continue. Because it was fucked up, really. And if anyone found out, she was sure she'd be sent into exile forever for being the shameless, backstabbing, whore that she was—especially after calling Bonnie the same when finding out she had slept with Damon.

She had essentially done the exact same thing and now she was a hypocrite.

Enzo was still Bonnie's ex, who had only finally stopped wearing his wedding band just a few days ago. He was still Damon's ex best friend, and she was still—shamefully—in love with Damon.

But none of that mattered when he did things to her that she hadn't felt in a while; because the feeling of being needed and wanted was enough to make her suspend reality for a moment and just try to enjoy this for however long it could last. Because knowing her, this would all go up into fiery flames at some point or another because that was just her MO.

Losing a guy in ten days? She had perfected that.

Elena watched as he reached into the nightstand for the pill bottle and he pulled out a picture frame instead—his eyes studying it carefully and she swallowed hard as she watched him but tried to avert her eyes just the same.

"Is that you, as a little girl?" he asked and she let out a deep breath, spinning around in her seat at the vanity with a nod as he still studied the picture and lifted a brow. "And that's— "

"Damon. And his mom. Lilian Salvatore," she said, committing to memory the first picture she and Damon ever took together when she was 5 years old—it was his 6th birthday party; the first time he kissed her. They obviously didn't date until much, much later—but her parents called Damon her childhood sweetheart. But they were obviously dead wrong, because he had already belonged to someone else. "That was… a long time ago, obviously. I don't even know why I still have that."

She knew exactly why she still had it.

Because she never got over him. She wasn't sure if she ever would. Despite how many men and women had come into her life since then.

Enzo held the frame in his hand for a second more before putting it back down and grabbing the bottle of Advil next to it. A long silence filled the room—save for the sound of the pills rattling when he shook the contents—and she swallowed hard as she watched him pop two into his mouth with a sip of her glass of water, before finally searching the ground for his clothes to get dressed.

If seeing a picture of her as a child with her ex and his mother wasn't a mood killer after having the best sex of your life, she wasn't sure what was.

Elena cleared her throat as she put her powder down and rose to her feet as he zipped his jeans back up and didn't look into her eyes.

She knew the feeling. She'd felt it just a few days ago when post-sex, she asked him why he wore his wedding band if he and Bonnie never officially got married. He said it was because he was a masochist. And she didn't say anything else about it, but she noticed he stopped wearing it the very next day.

The same went for her—as far as being a masochist and all.

She knew she stood no chance at ever getting Damon back. Because it didn't matter how much she wanted or needed him. He didn't want her, and Bonnie didn't want Enzo—so the two of them were left here to pine over two other people who were perfectly happy with each other—as evidenced from all of the pictures and videos she'd seen on social media from Italy—and they both needed to realize their worth and get the fuck over it.

But that was easier said than done, Elena realized. Especially when she was still holding onto reminders and mementos from the past. Because she one day hoped the past could somehow be reality again—though she knew she stood no chance against Bonnie Bennett when it came to Damon's affections. She never did; not even when she spent nearly a decade of her life with him; not even when she'd been the one, he shared his first kiss with. It didn't matter at all that her first time was in the back of his baby blue Camaro—the same one she watched him shamelessly groping Bonnie up against—because why would it? Damon may have lost his virginity to her too, but she knew that she wouldn't have been his first choice if Bonnie even knew how he felt back then.

And that made her feel pathetic. Because she'd placed so much of an emphasis on these milestone moments, they'd shared together all while he had been hoping to have them with somebody else. Her best friend. The love of his life.

Why couldn't she just get over it if he hadn't even been invested in it while it was happening?

She snapped out of her thoughts to find Enzo was almost completely dressed and looking at his watch as she neared him carefully, holding her towel in place.

She couldn't change the past. But maybe she could still save the present.

"I should get going. I have a meeting with Marcel—to go over some blueprints for my building— "

"Enzo, wait," she said, and he stopped in his tracks as his big brown eyes met hers and she bit her lip softly before exhaling a deep sigh.

Her fingers met his arm. She watched as his goosebumps prickled along his skin, but he didn't say a word.

"It's hard for me, to let go of the past," she admitted, and he followed her eyes, as they dripped with sincerity. "But I… will try to. If you try," she said optimistically—her manicured nails still grazing along his forearm. "Damon means a lot to me, and Bonnie, a lot to you. But they're gone now and… we have each other. And… I'm having fun. Aren't you?"

Enzo didn't respond to that and she swallowed hard as her hands met his face and drew him in closer; their noses touching as she shut her eyes. She felt the tiny expels of breath from his lips on hers and a second later, she placed them to his. Her mouth formed against his softly—as gently as she could—as she gave him a sweet kiss and pulled back to meet his eyes.

Enzo was still completely silent, and she offered a nervous smile as her thumb grazed his lips methodically. He didn't say a word so she decided she should just bite the bullet and finally explain what it was that she really felt. It's not like she could get anymore hurt than she already had been, anyway.

"I like you," she said, and his brows knitted at that as she felt her heartbeat skip a beat when his eyes realized the revelation, but she didn't back down. "I know that I shouldn't because this is… weird. And it didn't start out with the best intentions—at least not for me, anyway. But… I like you… I can't help it. And I would like to keep seeing you if you want to keep seeing me. The ball is completely in your court."

He didn't offer a response to that either and her heart nearly sunk when a minute—which felt like an hour—passed and he just stared her; and she couldn't tell what his reaction was, which made her feel even more self-conscious in her own skin the longer she stood there nearly naked in front him.

Maybe she had actually succeeded in losing a guy in ten days.

Elena pursed her lips with a knowing nod and turned away before her disappointment could mar her face and he could see it.

"Okay then," she muttered and her mind responded to her immediately, as she heard the answer to her statement in her head as she ticked her jaw.

Of course, it isn't. Because he loves Bonnie. Why wouldn't he? You kind of love her a little bit, too.

She cringed at that. Especially at the last part.

Before she could walk away however, she felt his hand land on hers and turn her back around to face him. Her eyes widened with surprise when she felt his fingers interlock with her own and without another word, he drew her in immediately and placed a firm kiss to her lips. And it was smoldering—it was intense.

It reminded her all too well of what it felt like to really be kissed, because she hadn't been, in a long while. And something about that lit the very fuse she was trying not to light all along with him, as his hands gripped tightly at her waist and all but ripped her towel off of her before pushing her down onto her back on her bed.

Her breath hitched when she watched him take off his shirt again before he kissed her.

His back muscles clenched, and she dragged her nails along each part of his Herculean skin before he pulled away from her puffy pink lips and looked into her eyes.

"This isn't going to work, Elena," he said and she nodded at that as she pulled him in again and his tongue danced against hers; his knee parted both of her legs as his hand slid between her thighs—she swelled all the while. "There are so many reasons why, love."

"I know. And I-I don't care," she said, reaching up and kissing him again, before looking into his hypnotic obsidian eyes. "Do you care?"

"I do. But I don't want to."

Good enough, she decided.

And with that, he landed on his back as she rolled him beneath her, smoothing her hands down his chest for a second. Her hands then busily undid the belt around his waist and unzipped his jeans before sliding them down with ease; her lips connected with his torso, he shut his eyes, and he fell against the pillows as he felt her going to work on him. His hand gently landed on the back of her head and he emitted a deep sigh when he felt her take him into his mouth.

And the distraction worked, for a moment, when he hardened in the back of her throat and tried to forget just what had left him speechless a few minutes ago; because it wasn't her confession, like she thought, though that could've been a good guess because really—she was an idiot falling for a guy like him. And he was even dumber for entertaining it when he knew this was just a means to an end and he and Elena would only ever be fuck buddies and nothing more.

He couldn't actually date her. She was insecure. And unstable—the exact opposite of everything Bonnie Bennett had been. And while he liked sleeping with her, actually liking her romantically was something else entirely. And he just didn't see that for himself.

But that didn't mean that he hated the attention she gave him or how well they got along even when they weren't having sex.

A part of him did like her too—just maybe not in the way that she wanted. And he'd figure out a way to tell her that eventually, when he wasn't balls deep inside of her, or getting her off with his hands or mouth between her legs.

He watched as her slick brown hair moved while her head bobbed up and down and he gripped onto the back of her locks. He bit down onto his own lip tightly, trying to focus on how good this felt because if he didn't, he was going to think about the things that he now knew, since going into her nightstand and seeing that photograph.

Because that picture—the woman in it—he had seen her somewhere before. And he knew exactly where, though he was trying desperately right now to convince himself that, that wasn't the case—that his mind was playing tricks on him—and he didn't know Lilian Salvatore from a hole in the wall because how could he? The woman was dead, and he knew nothing about her. She was Damon's mother that he hadn't seen a picture of until now, because his former best friend didn't seem to have any pictures of her up in his mansion—he called them painful reminders and decided to rely on his memory instead. And Enzo respected that and never asked.

But now, he realized he should have. Because was it just his mind begging for it to mean something more when he felt the pang in his chest when he saw her photo—and her eyes staring back at him—before he placed it back into its rightful and closed the drawer? Or had he finally discovered the truth? The truth he had gone so long without; that he'd been comfortable not knowing, because at this point there was no way to ever truly know, right?

And this just couldn't be.

She couldn't be the woman who he saw a photo of in his late father's journals, when his family that he found through one of those ancestry websites—thanks to Bonnie—reconnected with him and confirmed that he was His son, but they had never met his mother. They didn't even know her name; but they knew that his father loved her.

And she had broken his heart.

His father, Markos El Khoury, had met a woman back when he was in the service, stationed in Lebanon, and she'd had his child when she left to London; he only found out about it in letters much later that she almost never sent, but did before she disappeared and he never heard from her ever again, Markos retold.

He went to London to try to find her but to his devastation she was gone. And her letters confirmed she had given their boy away because she wasn't ready to be a mother; but she named him Lorenzo, after his middle name. And the family who took him, the St. John's, seemed lovely, according to Lily. She reassured Markos their son would be in good hands.

Only he wasn't, Enzo recalled, as he remembered his abusive foster parents who only kept him around for the money. Then discarded him, quickly, when they didn't need him around anymore and found a new shiny plaything.

And apparently, his father did reach out to them through the agency, but they never allowed him to meet his son because they ignored every attempt he made to track Enzo down. And then, Markos died years later, himself.

He never knew who his father was until meeting his family and he'd never heard from the mysterious woman who gave him away just after birth. And now, Enzo believed he had known why; he just didn't want it to be true.

Elena came back up for air with a smile and he smiled at her as well, though his heart was racing, and his knuckles were a ghostly white when he gripped her by the thighs and pushed her underneath him.

He reached into the drawer to grab a condom. His fingers knowingly brushed against the photo again and he bit back the urge to throw it against the wall, watching it shatter into a million pieces.

It was what he wanted. But then again, when had this life ever given him anything that he wanted?

Because now, he was sure it had given him two brothers—one of which was dating his ex-fiancé. And he was fucking his ex-girlfriend.

What were the chances of that?

XXXXX

"Did you think we'd ever see the day, when we finally got them out of the house?"

Bonnie smiled at that as Gail walked into living room with two glasses and a bottle of red wine when she joined her on the couch. Damon, Giuseppe, and Stefan had left 30 minutes ago to have dinner at Borgo San Jacopo— a beautiful, Michelin starred restaurant —with views of the Ponte Vecchio.

It had been a few days since her talk with Damon and though she knew he had no intentions of speaking to his brother—and he still hadn't, while Stefan was here—it appeared Giuseppe had other plans and to be honest, she was happy about that.

She hoped some good food and a terrace view would be enough to help the Salvatore men hash things out peacefully, while she opted out of attending and stayed home with Gail, to have some homemade pizza and wine.

Bonnie's stomach grumbled lightly as she watched Gail cut into the pie in front of them and she thanked her graciously when she passed a plate, then a glass of red to cheers before she settled back into her seat and took a bite.

She wiped the corner of her mouth with her napkin as Gail watched her with a smile.

"Giuseppe's recipe. I'll let him know you're a fan," the woman said, and Bonnie laughed at that as she reached for her glass and took a sip.

"It's amazing. Thanks again for cooking. You didn't have to do all of this," she said, and Gail smiled in response before she shrugged her shoulders.

"Of course, I did. I… know that you know what's going on with Giuseppe, Bonnie and I… wanted to thank you, for not speaking to Damon about it before he had the chance. I know that he wants to say it in his own words. Thank you for giving him that opportunity to do that tonight."

Bonnie sighed at that and nodded as she followed Gail's gaze; her deep brown eyes as calm as her voice as she held her glass of wine loosely before raising it to her lips.

Gail Salvatore—formally Gail Jones—married Giuseppe many years ago after meeting him for the first time at the supermarket in the deli department.

Giuseppe was trying to do the single father thing, without hiring a nanny or a maid for Stefan and Damon, but he didn't even know the first thing about making a proper grocery list and what he should even buy—he had always relied on Lily for that. The three had been surviving on fast food, restaurant takeout, and quick meals because he was so busy with work and not much of a cook. But he wanted to make an honest effort to be better because he knew it's what Lily would have wanted.

And he knew a real dad was what his boys wanted, as well.

Gail approached him with a soothing smile and asked him if he needed help, as the man in the $5000 suit looked completely baffled when the deli worker asked him if he wanted Kretschmar or Boars Head, because really; what the fuck was the difference? Would Stefan or Damon care anyway?

Giuseppe had been all but ready to just leave his cart where it was and buy the boys pre-made sandwiches before Gail came to the rescue and successfully ordered his cold cuts from the counter with such ease and grace, it warmed his bones at the stranger's kindness.

She didn't know him, but she wanted to help. And it reminded him that no matter how fucked up this world could be, there were still good people in it; and apparently, they hung out at the local supermarket.

They talked for a while after that while browsing the aisles—he explained he was new at this, and he had just left work—hence the suit—and he admitted that he had never really done any of the shopping when his wife was around. Gail was understanding of that and didn't judge him for not knowing; she thought it showed much more of his character that he was at least trying, and she couldn't knock him for that.

It didn't hurt that he was strikingly handsome, as well.

Flash forward to twenty plus years later, and the two were still together and just as crazy about each other as they had been when he asked her to marry him, just a few months after they'd begun dating. To Giuseppe, life was too short not to go after what you wanted. Life was loving, tough, harsh, and kind—but it was unforgiving if you wasted your time not telling the people that you cared about that you loved them, when you felt it.

His marriage to Gail may have been a quick one, but it proved to be unwavering, because they were still here, many years later, and they were happy; as happy as Bonnie hoped she could still be one day.

As happy as she hoped she would be with Damon.

She snapped out of her thoughts and nodded softly when she looked into the woman's eyes.

"I… can't imagine how hard this must be for you," Bonnie said as she tugged at her lip and shook her head. "How… how do you reconcile with the fact that the love of your life just… won't be here anymore, one day?" she asked honestly and Gail shifted at that and Bonnie immediately felt disdain building in the pit of her stomach for even asking such a bold question. "I'm sorry. That was forward— "

"Straight to the point—that's what I've always liked about you, you know," she said with a grin and Bonnie chuckled nervously as the woman tucked her shoulder length locs back behind her ears. "The truth is Bonnie… there isn't just one answer to that. Grief is complicated," she said, and Bonnie nodded in understanding before Gail continued. "But the one thing I've always promised myself I would do is give people their flowers while they can still smell them… I remind Giuseppe, and myself, how, why, and when I fell in love with him, every single day… because not only does it reassure him that he will have my heart forever but… it reminds me that I was lucky enough to experience a love that strong; to find a love that big," she said with a comforting smile and Bonnie felt her eyes tear up at that.

One rolled down her cheek and she quickly wiped it away with a laugh as Gail's face remained peaceful all the while.

"That's a good answer," Bonnie said, and Gail smiled warmly at that as Bonnie took a deep breath in. "I guess I never thought about it that way."

There was a peaceful silence between them for a moment as she took a sip of her wine and Gail folded her hands; her eyes remaining on Bonnie before she opened her mouth to speak again when her fingers wrapped around her drink.

"When did it start? Between you and Damon?"

Bonnie looked up from the glass in her hand at that and Gail's eyes never dropped as Bonnie shifted on the couch, tucking her feet beneath her body.

"I… I don't know. The night of my bachelorette party, I guess," she said feeling slightly ashamed as Gail's eyes studied her. We… were drunk. Really, really drunk," she said recalling the night of the tryst before her wedding. "l'm not sure as his step-mother they you want to hear the about that," she said and Gail playfully sneered at that, before taking another sip.

"Yeah, let's leave that one to the imagination," she said with a smirk and Bonnie blushed but smiled in response. "But I didn't mean that night Bonnie, I meant… for you. When did it actually start?" she asked, and she furrowed her brows as she looked into his eyes. "Oh. Don't give me that look. Everyone knows the exact moment they fall for someone… You don't know when you fell for Damon? I imagine it'd be pretty hard to forget. He has an… unforgettable personality, to put it lightly."

Very, very lightly.

Bonnie swallowed another sip and shook her head before she replied.

"No, Gail, I-I don't actually. It just sort of happened— "

"I think that's a lie," she said bluntly, and Bonnie ticked her jaw. "I think… I think you've always known when you felt something—even if it was something small—for him but you just… weren't ready to admit it," she said and there was a long silence between them at that, as Bonnie inhaled the air and exhaled it just as deeply. "But you know the truth. You… have to know that the night before the wedding wasn't when this all started, right?" Gail asked pointedly and Bonnie stared at her but didn't respond. "So, let's hear it, Bonnie; what was the a-ha moment? I'm a retired therapist. You know I won't stop prying," Gail warned, and Bonnie pressed her lips together tightly before biting the bottom one and putting her glass down.

"I… maintain that I don't know when I fell in love with him, but…" she twisted at her shirt nervously and Gail perked up as Bonnie blinked her olive eyes rapidly and looked down before continuing, "I…know when I first felt the draw to him, if that counts," she said and Gail nodded as Bonnie looked up nervously.

"Of course, it does. We all start somewhere, right?... When was that?"

Bonnie laughed humorlessly, took another sip of wine and sighed.

"I… was young. 18 years old. I… was attracted to him when we were in college. At Whitmore. It was the first time I just… understood what the hype was all about, I guess," she admitted, and Gail smiled as Bonnie continued, chewing her bottom lip. "In Freshman Year… I liked him, in Freshman Year."

Gail looked absolutely intrigued at that and Bonnie threw her hands up with a shrug before hugging herself around her body.

"Freshman Year?"

"Uh huh. That's my story. Thanks for attending my TED Talk."

"Surely there's more to the story," Gail urged, and Bonnie stiffened. "And you don't have to tell me if you don't want to… but I think you want to… I think you've been itching to tell someone, haven't you?"

Bonnie didn't respond to that because it was fucking true.

She had feelings for Damon when she was 18 years old before they bubbled up again at 29.

Fleeting, non-committal, transient feelings, but feelings nonetheless that gathered on the pit of her stomach when he casually stripped down to his boxers in front of her to change, or when he reached in to wipe the corner of her mouth after she made a mess eating and licked his thumb, before allowing her to finish up what she was saying.

She had a crush, to put it simply. A stupid, silly, infatuation with Damon that she didn't ever plan on pursuing because he was Damon, after all. But that didn't make it any less real when she found herself looking for him across crowded rooms, or how she'd found herself getting unexplainably irritable anytime he had plans with Elena or some other girl he was seeing that didn't include her because how dare he have a life that didn't revolve around their friendship and Bonnie Bennett?

Bonnie cleared her throat as Gail waited for the rest of the story and she figured she had nothing left to lose at this point if she finally came clean.

Well, except for her dignity if Damon ever found out because he might not ever let her live this down.

But maybe that was a good thing. Maybe she should give Damon his flowers, too, while he was around to still smell them.

"I… felt a thing for him, briefly, because he… When he protected me; when he… saved my life," she said and Gail immediately knew what she was referring to as she moved in and placed a comforting hand on her own and rubbed it softly as she blinked hard.

"Damon told us about that," she said as she remained silent, absorbing her words. "I'm so sorry, Bonnie. I hate that, that happened to you. And now knowing how you felt about Damon… I'm sure things were really confusing," she said, and she nodded biting her cherry red lip before she spoke.

"Thank you. It… was really confusing. It wasn't even that night—I barely remember that night, thankfully—but it was a week later, at the dorms. When he came over to check in on me after I called him. He dropped everything to stop by and that meant so much to me. He means so much to me; he always has," she said with a nod before looking deeply into Gail's glittering eyes. "But it was in that moment that I knew that he… he meant something more to me, I just wasn't sure what. And I guess it took me all of these years to figure that out."

Gail remained silent at that as Bonnie tried to find the words to say; the words she'd never said out loud to anyone. Not until now.

She shut her eyes for a moment as she recalled that very night.

She laid in bed, staring up at the ceiling as she gripped her comforters tight. She was thinking about everything—and nothing—as her eyes searched for imperfections in the paint but she'd found none, although she was searching for what felt like hours.

She was only awakened out of her thoughts when she heard the door to her dorm bedroom shut and she sat up straight in her bed staring at the entrance that led out to the darkened hallway.

That was when he came into view.

He was dressed in a familiar black v neck t-shirt that was paired with soft gray sweatpants, as he slowly wandered into her room, messy haired but wearing a comforting smile that immediately put her at ease the moment she absorbed it.

She didn't say a word as Damon shut the door behind him and Bonnie swallowed hard as she followed his bluer-than-blue eyes.

"Hey," he said gently.

"Hi," she said as he still stood there quietly; her normally bright eyes full of a mix of emotions as he studied her for a moment before she looked down at her feet. "Thanks for coming."

"Of course," he said in a light tone. "It's not like the traffic was bad," he joked, and she smiled softly as he pursed his lips. "Do you… want to talk?"

Bonnie cleared her throat at that as she offered a weak smile and a nod when she gestured for him to sit on her bed and her heartbeat involuntarily spiked in her chest.

She called him because she knew he couldn't control himself when it came to being her knight in shining armor—that's why he was even here, after all. She couldn't act confused about the fact that Damon would drop anything—or anyone—that he was doing, at anytime, for her. That's just how their friendship had always been. And because of it, she had become so comfortable calling him with any and every need or problem that she had.

Even now, at 3 o'clock in the morning, because he was the one who made all of the bad things go away, for her.

So, when she found herself sleepless in bed on a Saturday night, he was the first person she called, because it'd been hours of this anxiety and restlessness and she just wanted it to stop. She thought about calling Caroline, but she knew that she was visiting her Mom that weekend, and she didn't want to worry her into coming back to Whitmore from Mystic Falls.

And Elena? Well she was here—they were roommates technically—but the girl had been spending the night at Damon's dorm actually, which made it even weirder that Bonnie decided to call him and not her instead.

She knew it was "date night" for them. But she also knew date night meant movies and an edible or two, which meant Elena was sound asleep, hence why Damon was able to get here so quickly, without any questions asked.

When he answered her call, Bonnie almost audibly exhaled a sigh of relief. There was something about the sound of his calm, slightly smoky, velvety voice over the phone that immediately offered her relief, though she knew nothing was better than having the real thing, in person.

And that was what brought him here. Because he didn't say no to Bonnie. And there was a part of her that liked that.

There was a part of her that loved that she was the only person he didn't say no to.

She stirred out of her thoughts when he kicked off his slippers, grabbed her favorite teddy bear, Miss Cuddles, off of her dresser, and sat down at the footboard while she pulled her blankets over her flimsy camisole and covered her pajama shorts.

She felt his eyes on her as she loosened her hair out of her messy bun and her curls fell over her shoulders. She attempted to rearrange it into a tight ponytail and Damon's eyes never dropped all the while, as he mindlessly bounced the teddy bear on his lap.

She gave up on the pony when her scrunchie didn't cooperate and he watched the frustration multiply in her stare when she tossed it on the night table and left her hair flowing at her shoulders, before brushing it back with her fingers.

His gaze only seemed to be broken once she finally spoke.

"I guess I'm just still shaken up," she admitted slowly, as she bit her lip and he remained silent. "I don't… remember anything that happened thatnight other than the beginning of it… Meeting Ben and hanging out for a bit, and then I just… lose track of time all over again, and it has me all fucked up in the head, Damon. You're… positive that nothing happened with him, right?" she asked, and he sighed with a nod meeting her eyes.

"I'm sure. He… slipped whatever he did into your drink, and probably didn't think it'd kick in so quickly. You went to the bathroom, I heard him talking shit, and I came for you. He never saw you again after that," Damon reassured and she nodded, tucking a strand behind her ear. "You trust that I'm telling you the truth, right, Bon?"

"I do. I know," she said immediately, as her fingers fidgeted, and he watched. "I'm just… I'm absolutely terrified that I can't remember anything and I feel scared; scared about what could've happened… about could still happen to me one day, if I'm not more careful," Bonnie confessed in a soft but hollow voice.

Damon placed the bear down on the bed and swallowed hard at that, but his voice remained even all the while.

"First off, that's… completely valid, Bonnie. You got drugged by some rapey scumbag and then you passed out in a frat house bathroom… You're not overreacting. It's scary shit. You're allowed to feel the way that you feel, but… don't think for one second that it's on you to prevent this; don't blame yourself or talk yourself into thinking that you're the one who needs to be careful, when really—men who do this, anyone who does is, is the problem. Not you. You didn't do anything wrong. How could you have known he'd do that?"

Bonnie nodded at that as she inhaled a deep breath and bit her trembling lip.

"I guess I just… keep thinking about what would've happened if you… weren't there. I…would've been just another college cautionary tale about getting too drunk and ending up in a bad situation with a guy I didn't know… because no one ever has sympathy for the victim. It's always about what we did wrong; how we could've avoided it. And I somehow did," she said as he watched her eyes. "And it was because of you… You were there for me, Damon. Again. You always are and you… you saved me. Thank you. Thank you, Damon."

Damon nodded at that as a long silence passed between them.

"You don't have to thank me," he finally said. "It's what any decent guy would do. It's what every guy should do— "

"But you're not every guy," she said, and Bonnie shifted on the bed. She quietly took his hand into hers and held onto it; she felt a sudden warmth against her palms, but she remained focused, as she followed his blue eyes. "You're my best friend. And you… don't know how grateful I am to have you in my life. I always have been but this past week—I am especially grateful… And I guess I just wanted you to know."

Damon remained silent and immediately she feared she'd said too much. Also, why was she touching him?

Damon might have been her knight in shining armor, but he was still somebody else's boyfriend, as she remembered the fact that Elena was literally back at his dorm room, sleeping in his bed while he was here, because she was afraid the boogie man would come to get her. He should have been with his girlfriend, who he'd just finally been getting along with, instead of tending to her every beck and call because she was needy.

And suddenly she felt really stupid.

Because something clicked, as she looked into his eyes and she realized her heart was positively going to leap out of her chest if she didn't look away for just a second as he watched her curiously and silently, while she battled with the existential crisis that was happening in real time, all in her head.

The worst part was that she could probably die right here from embarrassment, and he'd probably still find a way to apologize her. That was how much power Bonnie Bennett had over him, despite how powerless she was made to feel just a week ago.

She replayed Damon's version of the scene over and over again in her head, despite the fact that she didn't want to; she did it anyway. She'd forced him to tell her everything that happened and she watched as he saw red every time he spoke about it; when he recalled Ben's voice echoed in his brain, as he overheard the smug asshole bragging about the freshman that he was going to fuck that night the second the roofie kicked in and he got her alone.

Damon heard him actually laughing about it as he gushed over how hot she was— as he outlined each and every disgusting thing that he'd do to her because she seemed so pure and that was what attracted him to her the second he walked into the frat house and bumped into her by the kegs, as she was pouring herself a drink.

Damon listened as his equally disturbed and disgusting friends hyped him up and justified it; reasoning that it was okay because she 'definitely wanted it anyway' and 'this is what she should expect' being a freshman and having the audacity to go to a college party with a bunch of upper classmen; especially at a frat house during Homecoming Weekend.

She should've been honored that he chose her of all the hot girls there, because she could've been anyone—but being picked by him made her special. She'd be grateful after it happened that he helped her to 'let loose.' She might even want to do it again when she regained her consciousness and senses, Ben argued and his friends laughed at that just seconds before Damon's fist met his face and sent him to the Emergency Room with a bloody, broken nose.

He regrettably explained all of this to Bonnie the following day when she woke up with a blistering headache, no recollection, and Damon sprawled out on her couch, as she desperately tried to piece together what the fuck happened the night before, though she admitted it was all just a blur after a certain point.

She remembered Ben, but she didn't remember much else after meeting him and he watched as her eyes filled with devastation when he explained why she couldn't recall anything, and a chill ran down her spine.

And despite how many times she told him it wasn't his fault, Damon felt personally responsible for what happened. Damon told her he hated the fact that something so horrible was even an option, because he hadn't watched this Ben guy closely enough when he started courting Bonnie or seen when he slipped something into her drink. He was too busy flirting with a sorority sister who was not Elena. And though he knew it wasn't on him he still felt responsible for her because she was his best friend and he was supposed to look out for her.

And she knew that was why he was here, again, as he always was and always would be whenever she needed him, because he loved her so fucking much; just as much as she loved him. At this point she was fairly sure Damon would kill for her, if he had to. And he came pretty damn close when he found out what Ben did. He was just lucky Damon cared more about finding her than he did about going to jail.

"I'll always be here, no matter what. I'm wherever you need me to be, at any time. I promise you that, Bonnie," he said, and she let out a sigh as her thoughts were confirmed with another reassuring phrase spilling from his lips.

Another promise filling his eyes and falling from his tongue.

Bonnie shook her head at that as she looked down at her hand that still was touching his, somehow. She acknowledged it but didn't remove it, she mentally noted.

"I don't know how to repay you."

"You owe me nothing, okay?" he said as his thumb captured her chin and Bonnie looked into his eyes. "We're friends. You're my best friend and I'm never going to stop looking out for you."

"No matter what?"

"No matter what," he confirmed, and she smiled at that.

His hand dropped and there was a long silence between them before she finally reached in and gave him a long hug, much to his surprise, she could tell, as his breath hitched and he exhaled onto her shoulder as she held him tightly.

There wasn't a word between them but she felt the definite electricity coursing through her bones as she sighed with relief against his chest and she shut her eyes; inhaling the faint smell of his cologne on his skin as they remained in the embrace for the next few minutes. She felt it as he mindlessly dragged his fingertips along her loose waves and she instantly got lost in his touch when they grazed against her scalp in such a soothing way, her body immediately turned to jelly the second that it happened.

What the hell was she doing?

She let out an involuntary shudder as she allowed Elena's face to flash in her mind before she finally pulled away from the hug. She tucked her thick brown hair behind her ears as he watched. His gaze remained steady all the while.

She looked deeply into his crystal-like eyes, in return.

"You have to get going, don't you?" she asked simply, and Damon ticked his jaw.

Yes, he should.

His girlfriend and her roommate/best friend was waiting for him just down the hall. And he surely didn't have any business climbing into another woman's bed, no matter what was happening, how close they were, or how far they went back when he was in a relationship.

An on-and-off, ridiculously unstable one. But a relationship, nonetheless.

He shouldn't be here with her, his best friend. And she shouldn't be enabling this— this unfamiliar, uninvited, but strangely exhilarating pang that she felt whenever he touched her lately. Because it was something she had admittedly ignored as best as she could before this tonight.

But she wondered, just how long could she keep doing this?

Because she knew exactly what it was. She just couldn't give it a name. Because if she gave it a name, she gave it life. And if she gave it life, she'd have to destroy it. And she wasn't sure if she was ready to do so, just yet. But that didn't mean that she wanted to live with it, either.

Damon cleared his throat and shook his head no, as Bonnie's brows furrowed, and he was already easing down onto her pillow as she watched him.

Miss Cuddles was between them.

"But Elena— "

"Will be fine. She ate an edible. And two pot brownies. We'll be lucky if she wakes up before next week," he said and Bonnie sighed at that but didn't argue as she finally eased down onto her bed as well and felt her skin on fire as he stared at her unashamedly while she looked away purposely.

After a few minutes she couldn't fight it anymore.

She willed herself to stare straight back at him, and he was still looking at her, just as he had been before, with an unreadable expression on his face, before he finally spoke, disrupting the silence.

"I'll look after you. Tonight, tomorrow, and all the days, weeks, and months that follow after that if I have to, Bonnie… I promise you—it will never happen again. This will never happen to you, ever again."

Bonnie looked at him for a long moment at that. She didn't say anything—she didn't need to. She believed him, and had she been asked to bet her entire life savings on it, she'd put every penny on the line to say that he meant that.

He meant every word. And she found that undoubtedly… romantic. Even if that's not how he meant it. Even if that's not how she should have interpreted it.

She had no idea if Damon felt this uncomfortable, pinging, reoccurring thing that she felt in her chest. And she would never ask. Because he belonged to her best friend; he was in love with Elena Gilbert and had been desperately so, since they were young.

He and Elena made the perfectly imperfect couple. He was a party boy. She was a homebody. He brought her out of her shell. She made him more reserved. They broke up and made up as many times as Richard Burton and Elizabeth Taylor, but Bonnie was convinced that's just what a real relationship was sometimes, and in the end true love would prevail.

Or maybe it wouldn't. But who was she to decide?

He bravely met his fingers to her cheek and she never dropped her stare as his index trailed across her skin, spiking goosebumps all along her arm. He moved in just an inch closer and pressed his lips softly to her cheek.

"Sleep well, kiddo," he said next to her ear and Bonnie scoffed softly but smiled genuinely at that and shut her eyes.

"Don't call me kiddo."

And that was the last thing she remembered before falling fast asleep. It was the first good sleep she had gotten in weeks.

Bonnie looked up at Gail at the conclusion of her memory and the woman beamed at that as she met her eyes and soaked in the silence.

"Are you sure you're retired?" Bonnie asked and Gail chuckled at that, before pouring them both another glass of wine and holding up her own with a smirk before answering her question.

"Any more repressed memories you might want to work through? I'm here all night."

XXXXX

On a scale of one to ten, Damon was at about a three when it came to how exciting it was to be out to dinner with Stefan and his dad. And he was being generous because the waitress got his order right, despite the fact that he was convinced she hadn't even heard what he said, because she was too busy ogling him, as if this was Christmas dinner and he was the roasted, juicy ham in the center of it.

Olivia—or was it Ophelia? Who cared honestly—was beautiful enough, but he had his own smoke-show, knockout waiting patiently for him at home, and the sooner he got through whatever this was over with, the sooner he could get back to her.

And honestly? He'd never missed her more than he did in this very moment.

Things had been awkward with Bonnie all week since their conversation about Stefan and his lack of desire to speak to him. And even though he did apologize about his piss-poor attitude and she accepted it, he knew that he was still on the hook to make it up to her, somehow. And he knew just the way, because he'd planned a romantic dinner for them tomorrow at an Italian restaurant, he'd been dying to take her to, in Florence. And he couldn't wait to grovel at her Giuseppe Zanotti heels because if he knew Bonnie, he knew she was going to make him beg for it.

And he would beg, alright. So long as he'd have her begging right back at the end of the night.

Besides, their little tiff had been insignificant at this point and pretty much didn't matter anyway, because his father made it clear his feud with Stefan had gone on too long and he was expected to get over it when he scheduled this dinner for tonight. This was his way of telling his sons that they were going to talk, and Damon didn't have any say in that.

It was a good thing he put up so much of a fight for nothing, then.

Damon was pardoned out of his thoughts when Giuseppe cleared his throat with a smile and grabbed his champagne flute to raise his glass into a cheers before they dug into their first course.

Their table was covered with a colorful antipasto that Damon didn't hesitate to dig into—you didn't have to tell him twice when Giuseppe was paying—as he carefully popped a mushroom in his mouth before grabbing his drink as well, to oblige his father with a cheers.

Stefan's glass clinked with the other men as well but he remained silent and seemed observatory, as Damon caught him more than once staring at him from the corner of his eyes, before finally looking away and down at his cell phone a few times, quickly responding to a few texts before turning it off and sliding it into his pocket when his father gave him the stern eye after the tenth time.

His brother was acting weird. But that wasn't new. Stefan got into a tizzy over everything—and more likely than not, he was probably arguing with Caroline over fabric softener or something. But that didn't matter.

Damon was just now learning that he didn't always have to care to learn about why his brother was in mood. Especially when he was still hellbent on ignoring his existence.

"This is long overdue," Giuseppe said as he folded his hands and his TAG Heuer Carrera watchband flashed beneath the sleeve of his suit; blue eyes bouncing between both men. "I've been meaning to speak to you both about something that I… have been waiting to get off of my chest," he said and Damon lifted a brow at that as he sipped his bourbon neat and cocked his head.

"So, you didn't set all of this up with the hopes of ambushing me into forgiving Stefan? That's wonderful news," Damon said with a chipper tone and his brother scoffed at that but didn't reply as Damon met his eyes. "Oh, come on, Steffy... Daddy has no plans to make you apologize to me over being such a shitty brother and siding with Evil Enzo over Bonnie and me. You must be thrilled."

"Shut up, Damon."

"Make me," Damon smiled sweetly in response and Stefan rolled his eyes but didn't get the chance to respond.

"Both of you, shut up," his father ordered as he glanced between the two and let out a sigh as he shook his head. "Damon, I did not set this up with the intentions of having you and your brother hash it out," he confirmed, and Damon nodded and mouthed thanks at that before his father continued. "Because you're both men—even if you're not acting like it. And I expect you two to do that in your own, without my interference. On your own time," he said as Stefan ticked his jaw but didn't reply and Damon shook his head but also remained silent. "I gathered you both here tonight because I have news that affects this family—that affects you both. And… I wanted to speak to you both about what happens next—about how I expect you both to behave."

Damon sat up at that—Stefan as well—as they both watched on as their father cracked his knuckles and cleared his throat; meeting both of their eyes routinely as he let the silence filter them.

It wasn't every day that Giuseppe Salvatore wanted to talk—hell, most of the time he'd rather not speak and let his actions do the talking for him—so it was wise to pay attention when he did. Especially because their father may have been taking baby steps to let them both know that he loved them now—and he would always—but he was still no fucking sap. And Damon immediately felt whipped into shape whenever he was in his presence; whether formal or casual.

And right now, his stringent stare was telling him that his dad did indeed have something serious to discuss with them at this dinner table.

Even if it wasn't the petty feud that was happening between them at this present time.

"Is everything okay, Dad?" Stefan asked first and Damon ticked his jaw as he waited for his response. "What's going on?"

"I'm moving, back home, to Mystic Falls, next month," he announced and both brothers' eyes widened as Giuseppe offered an affirming nod as Stefan and Damon remained flabbergasted all the while. "Italy has been good, to me and to Gail, but it's time to come back home. To be with my boys—for us to be a real family again, for as long as we have the opportunity to do so," he said. They both were quiet still and Giuseppe took another sip of his drink before he ticked his jaw. "We aren't selling the Lucca estate—or the properties in Milan and Genoa, and Rome. It will all be updated in my will accordingly," he said and they both just stared at him like he had three heads. "Call me foolish, but I thought you'd both be happier about this…"

"I'm happy. I'm happy you're coming home, father," Stefan spoke up first as his green eyes met his Dad and he quickly glanced at Damon who still looked dumbfounded but hadn't said a word. "I guess Damon and I are just… surprised, is all. What, uh… what made you make this decision, so suddenly? You and Gail discussed this? How does she feel?"

Giuseppe glanced between them and leaned in closer as Damon's head swarmed with an array of thoughts and questions he now had as well, as he waited for his father to speak.

Because this really threw a monkey wrench into his plans with Bonnie as well.

Did his father and Gail purchase a new home in Mystic Falls?

Were they moving back into the boarding house?

Was he now going to have to live with them at the boarding house?

Were they kicking him out just as he was planning on asking Bonnie to move in?

What the hell was the plan exactly?

And it seemed Stefan was just as interested to hear that as he awaited his father's answer with bated breath. Damon was unsure why Stefan seemed so curious because after all—this didn't affect him in the slightest, he and Caroline bought a house when Damon inherited the mansion—but he watched as his brother fidgeted for a moment and took a sip of his Tom Collins, as they waited to hear Giuseppe out.

He guessed Stefan's morbid curiosity came right back around to his brother being his typical, annoying, busybody, nosey ass self who needed to be involved in everything. Including shit that didn't pertain to him at all.

Because clearly, having a wife and two kids didn't stop him from making everyone's else's business his own; Damon experienced it firsthand with his relationship with Bonnie.

He couldn't help but wait to see just how his brother would make Giuseppe's choice about moving back about himself—because he wouldn't be Stefan if he didn't.

For now, Damon just wondered where this left him, in the grand scheme of things because, no offense, but his grown-up 31 year old self had no plans to be living with Gail and Giuseppe in a month when they decided to come back. And despite how much he loved the boarding house, he'd reconcile with giving it up if he had to, if that was where they wanted to stay.

He wasn't too proud or broke to find himself an apartment or a home of his own if that was where this conversation was headed. But he did hate that it could potentially derail the future he had been silently been planning with Bonnie, because he still wasn't sure just how she'd feel about moving into a new place or—potentially—allowing her to move into his.

Now he had a hell of a lot more to think about.

Damon looked back up at his father and he felt something twist in pit of his stomach when he noticed that Giuseppe still hadn't answered the question; what really made him change his mind so quickly, when he'd previously told them he planned to live out his entire retirement here in Italy.

He was sure there was even a mausoleum around here somewhere with the Salvatore Family name on it.

"I'm… sick," his father finally said, and Damon's brows shot up at that as Stefan's furrowed and he shook his head.

It seemed he had gotten his answer sooner rather than later.

"Sick? Sick how?" Stefan asked and Damon's mouth suddenly went dry as he listened on, but almost instantly he felt like he couldn't breathe when he looked away and the sounds of his father and Stefan faded into a muffled white noise as he stared straight ahead.

Because suddenly, his worst fears had come true. His father was dying, and he'd said it, so freely and so casually over their first course, as if he wasn't supposed to react to that; as if he wasn't supposed to want to burn this entire place fucking down.

Why was he being so nonchalant about this?

"We'll discuss the details in the privacy our home. Not here," he said evenly, and Stefan pinched the bridge of his nose while Damon just sat there, frozen. "But I needed you both to know. Because I… want to spend the time that I have left, with you both. I didn't think it would be right for you both to leave here, unaware of my condition," Giuseppe explained and Damon finally snorted at that as his leg was suddenly shaking and his index tapped against the table while he looked down.

He couldn't believe what the fuck he was hearing.

"Like Sarah? You just let Sarah leave without saying anything and you're supposed to walk her down the aisle," he mumbled, and his father sighed as Damon continued to look at his lap. "And now you're explaining this, like it's all… daisies and roses—like we're just talking about movie plot lines, but you're gonna die, Dad. You are dying… How long have you known? Why didn't you say something sooner?"

There was silence between the three and Stefan swallowed hard as he pursed his lips and his father watched as he blinked back tears and spoke in the most even tone that he could though his voice was shaking the entire time.

"Damon, I'm sure this was hard enough for him to say… We don't need to make him feel any worse about it. Okay?"

"Fuck you, Stefan," Damon said immediately as he rose to his feet and his younger brother remained silent as a tear rolled down his cheek and Damon let out a humorless laugh as he clenched his knuckles tight. "You don't get to tell me how I react to my father dying. You don't get to control everything—it's not up to you how I feel about this. So, stay out of it—for once in your goddamn life."

Stefan stood up at that as well and exhaled a deep breath as he folded both arms over his chest.

"I never said that it was up to me, Damon. None of this is up to me—despite what you may think. I'm just saying that maybe you need to calm down— "

"Or what?" Damon asked as he shoved him suddenly and Stefan's lips pressed shut as the comfortable chatter in the restaurant seemed to come to a screeching halt and the whispering began, as a few patrons started to pay attention to the spat happening between the brothers who stood chest to chest before Giuseppe stood up as well, holding up his hand between them.

"Stop this, now. Both of you," he gritted between his teeth as Stefan and Damon continued to stare at one another down with daggers in their eyes. "This is not how I raised you."

Damon shook his head at that. He couldn't believe his ears.

"You're right, Dad. You raised us to be respectable young men… who lie. And pretend everything is fine when it's not fine; when it's all just fucking falling apart," Damon shot back and his father followed his eyes as Damon's blue ones instantly filled with the pain and rage he'd been holding onto his entire life, until now. He was done bottling this all up inside. "I've spent my entire life pretending to be someone that I'm not for your sake—for his sake," he said pointing at Stefan and his brother didn't say anything in response as Damon's wild eyes remained wide. "And you know what? I guess I'm finally sick of it. I'm sick to death of pretending that nothing hurts me—that neither one of you has ever hurt me," he said angrily as he inhaled a deep breath and bit his bottom lip so hard, he almost drew blood. "You're dying, father. You're dying. And my guess? My guess is that it's terminal, you have left then a year to live, and I'm just gonna have to pretend that I don't have any of this pent of trauma from losing mom the exact same way, because I'm the kid… but I'm supposed to make you feel better. I get the privilege of making you feel fine about this as you come to terms with although I never do; I don't even come close. And then… I get to watch you die… Right?" he asked as a tear rolled down his cheek and Giuseppe's expression softened when he watched Damon choke back his emotions; just as he had been, his entire life. "How did I do? Did I pass your test?"

He didn't wait for his father's answer.

Instead he walked away briskly, pushing Stefan out of his way on his way out, and when his brother called him back and attempted to go after him, Giuseppe's hand stopped him as he looked into his eyes and offered a frown.

Stefan bit his bottom lip and sat down, without saying a word as he looked into his father's eyes.

It was the first time he thought he might actually see Giuseppe cry, as his father's normally stern blue eyes seemed to gloss over a little bit, even though no tears fell at all.

They never would.

"Give him a minute," Giuseppe said as he cracked his knuckles before grabbing his flute of champagne and taking a sip; his hands were shaking when he placed it back down and Stefan observed him carefully but didn't say a word in response; quietly offering a nod. "Just… give your brother a minute."